The Second War
by Lively
Summary: A novelized, more realistic version of how I interpreted both the book and movie of Prince Caspian; will contain most scenes of the book and movie, but in a new perspective, as well as many, many, many more twists and turns.
1. The Departure

(A/n) Hi! Obviously I do not own anything related to the Chronicles of Narnia, nor do I claim to own any of its characters, places, events, etc. I'm just having some fun with it and trying to get out of writer's block for a change. Hope you enjoy )

**The Second War****:**** The Departure**

It was a wonderful time; spring always filled one's spirit with joy and peace. The evergreen forests were magical to say the least. The flowers were in full bloom and their colors painted the woods in precious shades, full of wonder. The Dryads and Wood-Nymphs enjoyed this time more than anyone and their songs filled the air with sweet music, and the mornings with peaceful melodies, and the nights with wonderful lullabies.

Narnia was at peace. Its Golden Age was evident not only in their victories over recent feuds in history, but also because of the strength of the culture and the brotherhood and companionship its citizens displayed in every field of their lives: music, politics, feasts, wars, games and education and festivities and traditions and faith and dreams that were shared by many, inspired in all these things. And all was merry, and all was well, and the Kings and Queens that so beautifully graced Narnia with their reign were also joyful, but more importantly, they felt complete. Their completeness was not found only in each other but in the tasks that each had done throughout their lives as monarchs. They had inspired many people to recover the traces of their lives and start over again, and had given hope to many who had lost it, and faith to many who had never known it.

In the peak of youth, the adventurous Kings and their playful royal sisters had gone from their palace on the shore one morning. They had invited Lords and Ladies from various places, and a few others who were dear to them. The time of the year was perfect: the full blooming of spring was upon them and a peculiar creature traditionally roams the woods in those conditions. The Queens and Kings and their accompanying friends had decided to hunt for this creature for as to claim the prize of fame and virtue upon catching it. With it, if the creature willed it, could come also the wishing of any one thing to the one who emerged victorious. The creature was a slender silver stag, both magical and precious, and she had never before been caught.

The White Stag had been sighted a few yards from the starting point selected for the hunt. All of the human adventurers were riders, and most had promised to share the prize, including the wish, with their respective steeds. Some horses denied this, saying that they only enjoyed the sport of the chase and were content with their lives as how they were, yet others had hopes for things they had seen in their deepest dreams, or for answers to questions they had pondered their whole lives.

The night before, the royal siblings had discussed what their wish would be if they were the one to catch the White Stag. Queen Lucy thought of asking for many things, but none seemed to her a thing that she should ask a wishing stag for, but rather things she could do herself and in fact was planning on doing them. In her daydreams and deep thoughts she wondered if she could ask the stag to place an enchantment around the palace so that a nymph's song would continuously be heard inside its halls.

"It would be like having the eternal glory of spring at home" she had said excitedly to her siblings, who imagined the results and agreed that if no day went by that they didn't hear nymph's music, they would get used to it and would never miss it, and the feeling that they had each year when the music returned, that wondrous feeling, would forever be gone, and they thought that the feeling was what they loved the most, even more than the music itself.

King Peter began to think about all he had done for Narnia, and all he did not do for himself because of his devotion. He thought that he would have liked more time as a child to dream and play and enjoy, instead of having been at war since an early age, and experiencing the horrors and fears of it when he was still immature. But then he realized that he was not asking for a mere wish, but rather for a change in the history of his life, the erasing of his deeds, and the alteration of life in Narnia, and he decided that being devoted as a King was part of who he was, and the love he felt for his country filled him more than a thousand dreams of childhood ever could. In the end, he decided that he was content with who he was, and that catching the Stag was its own reward.

Queen Susan thought deeply about her wishes and desires. It was very difficult for her to decide upon the greatest of wishes her heart held, and she found it a challenge to come up with the thing she wanted the most. She reviewed her early years, how she had been interested in logic, literature, history, and how just knowing filled her with a passion she did not find in anything else. By becoming a Queen, she had turned her interests to another kind of knowledge, a foreign one and she had eventually forgotten about her old self and her first home. The search for the perfect wish had reminded her of lost memories, and it suddenly became painful to think of all she once had and how dramatic was the change when she first came into Narnia. In trying to ease her pain, she decided that she would wish for a glimpse of how things were back at the Outer World, beyond the Wardrobe, and what had happened after 

her and her sibling's departure. She was certain this is what her heart and mind wanted the most; the only way she could find peace of mind without forgetting about what had been.

In his own mind, King Edmund had the most grievous time when he thought of what he would wish for if he had the chance. And what he decided and how he came to that conclusion was very personal to him, and none of his siblings ever knew what he had decided upon. His siblings knew that albeit they shared a strong bond that few could understand, their stories were still detached and individual, though sometimes intertwined in the rings of their common fate.

After sharing their thoughts in regards to the Stag, they all went to sleep. Their slumber was peaceful; the night was calm and warm. When the first rays of sun filled their respective chambers with light and heat and energy, each rose from their bed and began preparing for breakfast. The ladies-in-waiting of the girls prepared their wardrobe and chose simple gowns for the chase. Both of them wore high boots in order to make riding and chasing on foot easier and their gowns were of a light fabric and very comfortable. Susan's dress was dark blue with white and pink lacing, her boots black, and the crown on her head the usual silver with deep, shiny sapphires. Lucy's attire included brown boots, a dark red and gold dress and her small golden tiara glowing like the jewel it was against her light brown hair. The small rubies in it sparkled beautifully in the sunshine. Both girls had decided upon combing their hair and leaving it loose, so as to feel the morning breeze playing with it.

The boy's clothing was very regal, but it was also swift and comfortable. Edmund looked alive in his deep green outfit, matching the many trees and leaves around him, and the emeralds in his silver crown further emphasizing his resemblance to his surroundings. Peter's tunic was dark brown, and his blonde hair looked well with his brown and gold attire. His golden crown looked magnificent upon sight and the diamonds incrusted in it were clear and brilliant.

The look upon the sibling's faces was a look that encompassed the best in their qualities. They were happy; their kingdom had not seen a dispute in a while. Relations with other nations were favorable and overall it was a good season in a string of good years that they had been blessed with. When they were ready, they made for the starting point of the hunt. Their horses, who had 

all volunteered to take them into this quest, were waiting for them, as well as the rest of the lords and ladies accompanying them. They all mounted their steeds and made ready to begin. When King Peter saw that everyone had collected themselves, and all were ready and eager, he gave words of encouragement and luck to those present and gave the order to begin the hunt. A melodious narnian horn was blown and its noise resonated in the greater trunks of the Western Woods. With it, all competitors rode away and the game had begun.

The royal siblings didn't separate from each other; they all had unconsciously agreed to pursue the stag together, so when it was in sight, it would be a race between them to catch her. They galloped in something similar to a line: Lucy went first, with Peter close behind her, then Susan laughing and talking and finally Edmund with his older horse struggling to keep up with his opposition.

As they rode farther and deeper into the woods the tension and excitement became intense and they all could feel that the chase was near to its end. They had spotted the Stag twice and were trying desperately to stay in her sight. As they rode on and on, Edmund's horse found that he could run no longer, yet he felt no guilt about it, because he knew Edmund was not interested in the rewards for the chase, but only in the chase itself. Edmund dismounted his horse and caressed his neck, waiting for the horse to catch its breath.

"Will you be alright, Philip?" he kindly asked, attentive for the well-being of his horse, yet not worried for his condition. He knew how strong Philip was, and exactly how far he could be pushed.

"Yes, worry not about me." He replied between breaths. They stood there for some minutes while Edmund surveyed their surroundings and took them all in.

"I do not remember this place," said the King in a voice just above a whisper, "The trees are still and quiet, like they would be if frozen by a spell."

"Yes, the same has come to my attention, sire." said the horse now recovered from his early fatigue.

The rest of the siblings came trotting back, laughing and talking, and then laughing some more.

"Were any of you able to catch it?" Edmund asked, amused by what he knew to be the answer to his question.

"The wild chase it has led us to! Clever little girl, that Stag is. Even if a hundred talking horses of Narnia were at gallop, we would not have kept up with it for long!" exclaimed Susan and her horse agreed with a nod.

"I take it failure has come to you all." said Edmund, between chuckles.

"Of the most amusing kind!" added Lucy, grinning. "It has been a thrill watching Peter follow it determinedly, whereas the Stag was simply going in circles!" They all laughed harder. But this time the merry sound of their voices was ceased when Lucy stopped in her tracks and dismounted. She was staring at a peculiar tree all along. Her eyes were wide and her lips displayed a growing smile of wonder and amazement. Without breaking her sight, she came closer to it and said: "What a marvelous feeling..." her voice trailed off. Edmund came closer to her; he had remembered that he had noticed something different about this particular place. Soon after, Susan got off of her horse, and walked while staring.

"A deep wonder of the world... what a feeling... like a dream from long ago..." she said as she walked closer and touched the tree that had bewitched them. It felt cold to her fingertips and hard to the touch. She found that it was made of strong metal and that it was not a tree at all. But somehow she already knew this, as did her siblings.

"...or a dream of a dream..." said Peter as he dismounted and came to Susan's side. His eyes surveyed the metal tree carefully, and the branches that had grown in it in circles and the dim light at the top of it, and the most inexplicable feeling overcame him. And he felt young again, revived and clean from the inside. Now there was peace in a place where he had had an unknown, overlooked heaviness before. He started in wonder while Lucy began searching for something.

"Spare Oom..." she said. She turned to Edmund who had trouble understanding her at first, but who followed her anyway. Susan and Peter followed suit and they all began walking South. The talking horses they left behind were left puzzled by their actions but had decided on giving them privacy. They thought that they would not go far without their steeds, and that they would soon return.

The siblings continued walking as the smells in the air became hotter and the memories came flashing back in. With each step they took they remembered a year of their life in Narnia and when they thought there was nothing left to think of, their old life came sinking down upon their minds. They felt confused; they were happy and sad at the same time; eager and relaxed, curious and afraid, joyful and in pain. There came a time in their walking where the smell of the trees and the leaves on the floor left them and everything became darker by the second. They experienced the strangest of feelings and for a moment they felt dizzy and could not remember what had happened a second before. After some moments stuck in this confusion, they came upon a hard wooden floor, and the steps they took sounded deep and whole. Strange fabrics caressed their faces and its fluffy softness made them want to sneeze. Lucy was still the first of them and she came upon a hard wall. She pushed against it out of reflex when her siblings bumped into her. She saw how it opened to reveal an empty room with only a door and two windows. Daylight came from outside and she fell head-first to the floor when her siblings collided against each other. Soon, all of them collapsed into the floor, one knee-first, one to the side, and one to his back. When Lucy tried to pull herself up she saw how tiny her hands had become. Startled, she looked at her siblings and saw the children she had grown up with years before. They had on their faces the same bewildered expression and they were about to voice their concerns when they heard an old, sincere voice saying:

"Hello, children… Tell me everything."

The siblings looked in awe at the man, who had a grin on his face of both amusement and curiosity. They looked at each other for a second and suddenly found that they remembered that the man was named Professor Kirke, and that this place was the Spare Room in his house, and that the Wardrobe was where they had come from. As soon as they remembered this, their narnian memories came flooding back in, and all was beginning to feel clear again.


	2. Hope and Other Feelings

(A/n Oh, the "The Magician's Nephew" references are endless! But I do like it that way; Professor Kirke was always one of my favorite characters in the Chronicles ) Obviously I own nothing and do this to practice my writing so I can get to actually write something decent for once. I hope you enjoy this :)

**The Second War**

Chapter Two: _Hope and Other Feelings_

The children had trouble standing up from the floor. Nonetheless, the Professor stood quiet and tall and he looked quite magnificent for his age and always carefree expression. After they had stood up, he turned and expected the children to follow him. Without speaking, or thinking (or perhaps while thinking too many things at the same time) they followed him. The company walked through long, wooden halls, with great works of art hanging from the walls every few feet. After many doors and turns and steps they arrived to the familiar door that lead into the Professor's study. It was a tall door, perhaps the tallest in the house (with the exception of the impressive front doors), and it was of a rich wood that shined as if it were recently built, though it had been standing for years. And in it were carved two intertwining rings with small words in each one that were too minuscule for the children to have read, if they had been paying attention to it at all.

Inside the room was a large desk, with many old rolls of parchment and used sheet of paper spread across it. The room was illuminated by a large candle chandelier in the middle of it, and its shadow was seen upon the red sofa almost below it. In front of the desk were three small chairs, all wooden and with soft red cushions. Behind the desk and the Professor's tall chair, was a bookcase that extended from one corner of the wall that continued circling the walls of the room until it was interrupted by a glass window facing west, and it continued again until it came to another window (this one pointing to the north), and then it went till the other side of the door. Not all places in the bookcase where necessarily filled with books; there were also loose leafs of paper in some places, and various items like glass cups, pan flutes, assorted compasses and a grand selection of small figurines made of clay. But what was most curious of all, and what would have certainly caught the children's eyes, were they not focused on something else, was a small chest that lay on the floor at the base of the first window. It was made of both wood and metal and it had marvelous carvings of brilliant symbols like stars and moons. It looked ragged, old, yet glorious in its own way. It gave the impression that it had not been opened in years.

As they all made for the inside of the study, the Professor reached for the chair behind his desk naturally, while the children took the three empty chairs in front of it, and Peter remained standing to Lucy's side, until the Professor encouraged him to take seat in the sofa behind them. In an unexpected way this arrangement made the three youngest siblings feel vulnerable and exposed. Nevertheless, they waited for the Professor to speak.

"Tell me children, what was it like?" He asked with an old voice filled with experience, knowledge and care.

None of them spoke at first. They were mostly afraid that they would not be able to find their voices if they tried. Then at last, Edmund spoke: "What was _what_ like?" His tone was low, and his voice almost innocent.

"Narnia, of course!" The Professor said while he placed his arms on the desk, and his hands together in front of him.

Almost immediately, the children's eyes looked up to him in surprise.

"You know… about Narnia?" Susan asked softly, both perplexed and full of curiosity.

The Professor stared long and hard at them before saying "I am familiar with Narnia, yes, yet it is possible that it was a different Narnia than the one you met in your adventures…" and then his eyes seemed far away, and for a moment he had been lost to thought. After a while he continued, "How long were you there?"

"It would've been sixteen years, Professor, had we stayed a few more months." Peter said from behind everyone.

"Fifteen years…" the Professor mused, "whatever made you decide to return now?"

"We didn't want to return…" Lucy said looking to the rug on the floor, with sadness in her voice that broke her sibling's hearts.

"It kind of just… happened." Edmund explained, "We were in the woods, walking, then we walked into the Wardrobe, yet something kept pushing us, and then we were out, as if nothing had happened."

And this was the beginning of a long conversation that lasted well after sundown. The children felt secure speaking to the Professor, especially Peter, who had remembered how he had been able to believe in Lucy by following his advice. In a way, they felt that without him, they would not have met Narnia the way they had.

Throughout the hours they spoke of Aslan and the White Witch, and what she had done to the land and to the Talking Beasts, and how her magic was undone and how the siblings came to be the Kings and Queens. The Professor listened attentively and asked for details regarding things the children found strange, for example, the details of the architecture of the Witch's Palace, the appearance of the Witch herself, and some other things that were mentioned randomly, like why was Cair Paravel surrounded by apple trees, and if they tasted any different from this world's apples. The children found these questions strange, but answered them nonetheless. They were mostly glad to be able to express their feelings with someone besides each other, in hopes of finding answers or advice from the Professor. This is why in the end, they felt a little odd when the Professor simply stood and walked out of the room, leaving them there and telling them that their bedrooms were still the same ones since they had left (apparently ignoring the fact that in reality, they had been gone for a mere hour or so).

Without supper or the need for it, the children went around the house, careful to remember exactly where everything was. It was a difficult task, but in the end they were able to find their old bedrooms. They gathered in the girl's room and looked around at their old things that they had brought from home. It brought back painful memories of the war that must still be entangling England and their father, along with the rest of the British Army.

The children sat closely together and began talking of all that was bothering them:

"Why did we leave so suddenly?" Lucy asked, already missing Narnia with all of her heart.

"Not only why, but how?" added Susan. "We have been in those woods every season of every year and not once did we spot the lamp-post nor the entrance to the wardrobe." The others nodded their agreement.

"I wonder if we'll ever go back." Edmund said almost miserable, as if he knew that the answer would be 'no'.

"We have to go back!" Lucy said, desperate. "We cannot just sit here and do nothing."

"It's not that simple, Lu" Susan reminded her, "remember the first time you tried to get us into Narnia? The Wardrobe didn't open for us."

"That's because you thought I was playing make-believe." She replied coldly, remembering how awful it felt to be thought a compulsive liar by her dear ones.

"That's beside the point. If we were able to come and go into Narnia when we pleased, the back-entrance to the Wardrobe would have been visible and accessible all those years we spent there." Susan replied logically, as she usually did before ever knowing of other worlds and their magic.

"Calm down, girls." Peter interrupted them. He did not mean to stop a possible bickering, though. His thoughts had turned on something far less egocentric and to him, much more important. "What do you think will happen without us there?" He asked grimly, "Nobody will know how or why we left. They might even think it was deliberate. We left no instruction behind as to what to do without us there."

"We had no need to; if any of us were missing, there were still three left behind to run the country." Edmund said, now deeply concerned with what Peter had been worrying about since he walked out of the wardrobe.

"They might even think of a conspiracy against Narnia; our departure may well induce a war between the Great Cities of the world." Susan reasoned, fearing that her words might be true.

"I certainly hope not, but it sounds very likely to be true. To a lesser extent, it may at least cause a civil war inside a leaderless Narnia." Edmund reflected to what Peter added "I would have preferred dying there to disappear inexplicably and so abruptly. It would have at least left an explanation behind." His voice was soft, and barely audible. He did not want his sisters to listen to such depressing talk, yet he needed to let his emotions out of him. They would override him if he chose to conceal them.

"We must try to go back in." Lucy said, determined to do as she proposed, even if alone. "Sitting here and simply accepting what is would be the worst of betrayals to Narnia and its people." She looked around her brothers and sister and finished, softly, "our people."

After silent agreement, the boys headed back to their old room and the girls were left alone in deep thought. Susan walked over to the window and gazed outside; the grass and the trees that surrounded Professor Kirke's house were a pretty sight, but made her ache and long for the magnificent trees of Narnia and their songs and dances. Everything that was in that world reminded her of all that it wasn't in comparison to Narnia. When she turned around, she found Lucy already cuddled up in her bed, seemingly asleep, though she knew she would not close her eyes tonight. With a deep sigh, she also made ready for bed and rested from the stress the change had brought upon her, and fell into a slumber. Even with the nightmares engulfing her, she managed to stay in bed all night, eyes tightly closed, but spirit acutely awake.

A few hours later, Lucy could hold herself no longer. She rose from bed and took with her a small lit candle that she had not cared to turn off before going to sleep. She walked instinctively among the halls and stairs and came finally to the empty room in the highest floor of the house. The hinges of the door creaked loudly as she opened it, but she did not notice. She went inside and immediately her gaze fell upon the large wooden wardrobe in the end of the room. The white sheet that had covered it before was still at its feet, and she felt its softness curling up around her as she stepped on it, while tracing her fingers around the carvings of the sought door. Slowly, with much anticipation and fear, she pulled it open. She set the candle to the floor, and entered the wardrobe, pulling the door close to a shut, but leaving a small gap open for the candlelight to creep inside. With a deep breath, she reached with her small arm the end of the wardrobe, hoping with all her strength that it wouldn't be there. With a faint touch of wood at her fingertips, her heart sunk low, barely stopped beating, and slender tears began to form in her dull eyes.

Weeping softly, she stepped out of the wardrobe and closed the door behind her. She took the barely living candle and went out of the room, back to where she was supposed to be this early hour of the dark morning.

The next morning the Pevensie children met for breakfast at the highly-decorated table in the middle of the dining room. They barely touched their food and did not speak at all, which in some twisted way made Mrs. McReady, the caretaker of the house, a little content. It was when the whole day had gone by and the children had not made a noise that she began to feel preoccupied. She voiced her worries, or rather tried to, to Professor Kirke, but he dismissed her thoughts saying that they just were in need of some peace and quiet, like all energetic children do from time to time.

By the time night arrived again, the children met once more in the girl's room, where they voiced their most recent thoughts of their situation.

"How much time do you think has passed since we left?" Edmund asked none of his siblings in particular.

"Who knows? It could be a year as well as a century. We could be forgotten by now." Susan said; a hint of despair in her voice at the thought.

"Let's go to the Wardrobe" Peter said suddenly. "Lucy is right: trying is the least we can do."

And so they waited until Professor Kirke, Mrs. McReady and the others were sound asleep, and met in the entrance to the hall where the Spare Room was. Once there, it was Peter who opened the door, letting them all in. They all felt uneasy and anxious. For a moment the four of them stood beside each other, simply staring at the Wardrobe. Susan stood next to Peter, and Edmund next to Lucy. With an almost shaking hand, Edmund stepped forward and opened the door. The others waited until he was inside, and then followed suit. Their hearts became worse than broken when they felt the hard, cold wood of the back of the Wardrobe. The once magical piece of wood was now as ordinary as snow was to a chilly winter. With their heads low, and their spirits lower, they all went back to their rooms, in need of comforting dreams and deep sleep.


	3. Truth and Legend

(A/N) Oh my God I'm so, so late! And soo, soooo sorry! Please don't kill me =)

[Definition of fanfiction: Duty of a fan to honor a great story by twisting it in every way possible. Therefore, the twists are mine and the great story, sadly, is not.]

**The Second War**

**Third Chapter:**Truth and Legend

The bell strokes were well-heard from afar. Each note struck stronger than the last. The message they carried was stronger still: the passing of the King of Telmar, Caspian the Ninth.

It was early morning. A large company of telmarine citizens met in front of their sovereign's ancestral home and paid their respects to the King's family: his son Prince Caspian the Tenth and the King's younger brother, Lord Prince Miraz. Flowers of all beauties adorned the paved floor of the impressive courtyard with such strength and determination that this day would never be forgotten. King Caspian IX had been a just and wise man. His reign was one of peace and little change, which made the telmarine citizens feel secure in their own lands. The news of his death brought distress upon the land, partly because of rumors that his passing had not been natural, and also because his only son and heir was too young and naïve to emerge from the shadow of his father's reign.

As the men and women walked and took a bow in front of the late King's tomb, the day grew colder and darker and soon even the singing of women deep within the chapel had faded until all was silent. It was by this moment that a young boy, hair dark as the night and eyes deeper still, slowly walked through the cold room. His feet unwillingly led him towards the great tomb, carved unto stone and sealed with rich wood, silver patterns of roses and lilies inscribed on each corner. The boy stared simply at the tomb of his father and allowed his fingertips to slowly caress it, as if waiting to feel warmth emitting from it. A few moments later, his hopes had not been met, and his eyes did not sparkle like they used to. His expression had melt away into a numbness that stuck to his skin like the cold to a snowbound morn.

"My Lord would be wise to recognize death as a thing natural as life, and to mourn and grief with all the love he holds inside." A voice said sternly to his back, yet the young Prince did not turn. He felt his knees weaken at the man's words but he stubbornly made them still again.

"There is no tear that does not show debility, Uncle. I do not wish to be weak." he stated plainly.

"Caspian..." Lord Miraz walked closer to the boy, until he, too, could see in detail the decorations of his elder brother's resting place. He stared at them momentarily, various thoughts echoing in his head, but he paid no heed to them. "Come." he fixated his gaze upon the boy, who stared at him in return, "It can take a man every ounce of his strength to masquerade his tears when he does not realize that these are the source of his strength itself. Do not be burdened by your fears, my young Prince."

At his Uncle's words, Caspian could hold himself steady no longer. With a newfound will he opened his arms and threw himself on his Uncle's embrace. He wept incessantly for the loss of his father, for his fears of the future, for the memories he wished he had of his late mother and for all the days to come where he would wish that his life had been different. When he fell silent again, his Uncle led him out of the chapel and escorted him to his bedroom, where he slept until the sun's rays crept through the blue curtains on the windows.

"How fares His Majesty, M'lord?" asked a tall and thin man whose face spoke only of courage and justice.

"As well as can be expected, Lord Belisar. He is, after all, just a child." Answered Miraz calmly, with eyes that bore the weariness that he carried.

"Not any common boy, Lord Miraz, but a Prince, and by law, a King when his age befits the title." Lord Belisar spoke firmly; his voice was rich in tone and full of diplomacy. His eyes did not break the gaze that so firmly rested upon Miraz's face.

"You assure yourself I do not know this, yet you are mistaken." said Miraz, careful to add a hint of danger to his words. It was not the first time he had made use of his stature and voice to intimidate one who would seek to surpass him, if left unchecked.

"I have no doubt of Milord's understanding of this fact. I merely spoke what is evident to us both." he stated plainly, and before Miraz could speak, he added, "the Council will be intrigued to know what will befall Telmar in a near future with no rightful King to seat at its throne."

"Rest assured, my Lord; the Council will have its worries dissipated once we hold session tomorrow morning. I suggest you take your leave now, so as to waken fresh to a new dawn." Miraz promised to Belisar, who took his words as an imminent warning and, bowing swiftly to Miraz, retired to his chambers, deep in thought.

* * *

An obscure and forgotten place; deep within the woods of old, where creatures roam and spirits dwell. Simply walking through this place would mean to put oneself at risk of sudden death or madness. These were the Western Woods. They were feared by many and forbidden to many more. The real reason no one knew-- yet no one really wanted to. But there was a man, both noble and wise, who thought of this place often.

This one man spent most alight hours of the day surrounded by books of all kinds. In them he had read an interesting fairy tale, that spoke of a beautiful kingdom governed unjustly by an evil witch, who was overthrown by four children traveling from afar. Yet as he kept researching, he found traces in this tale of a legend that spoke of four great monarchs in ages long gone, who would lend their magic unreservedly when their kingdom was at its greatest need.

The story often spoke of the grand victory of the royals against the governing witch; albeit the truth was divided in many different tellings of the same story, they all agreed that the Four had magical help that ensured their victory. As a magician's apprentice, the thought of magical knowledge lost to time and legend intrigued him greatly. His research then became intense and thorough: he even sold his most valuable possession, a golden ring encrusted with a timid emerald, in exchange of means to travel to the telmarine citadel, where the most extensive library of the land rested. It was in a book within this library that he found this:

_"[...]a man of great stature and power awarded gifts to the lesser kind; an elixir of eternal health, a sword that bears no weakness, a bow with arrows that never miss, and a horn which summons succor to the one who sounds it."_

The legend held that with these items the witch was ultimately defeated, and the land freed from her magic spell. If it were any other man, the tale would be regarded as a fairy tale, a tale for children to believe and grow close to until such a time when they are forced to deny its effects on them, and eventually come to believe their own lies until it really no longer affected them. But this man had a child's heart within, and in the midst of his meddling with magical affairs, he gathered enough information to create a time-line, and also a map, that would allow him to find these items (items that he no longer doubted the existence of).

Nevertheless, regardless of his own enthusiasm about his findings, not one man whom he had approached in hopes of support had given any attention to his claim. Despite the man's disillusion, he was able to gather his wit quickly, and hid his research, lest the telmarine nobles think his intentions were to disregard their assertions that the woods were perilous (and therefore forbidden) and that legends and stories are children's play, not a grown man's passion. It was because of this that the whereabouts of this man became unknown for some time, and rumors flew that he had ventured deep within the woods and had perished there, like the Lords of Telmar long had forewarned.

There was indeed faint truth in these rumors, like in all rumors. The man did journey to the heart of an immemorial forest, and he had truly been warned of the dangers of doing exactly that. Yet the man's ears had no will to listen to anything but the whisper of the winds, that guided him through the dark paths of the forest, and filled him with hope, even when he felt nothing else.

And even though he could not yet see it, there was a timeless magic at work inside that same forest, the kind that only the trees remembered, even after they had grown quiet, and one that would make itself known again, in due time.

* * *

(A/N) Well, I hope you liked. And I hope you like it enough to leave me a review =)

To the great, great people who reviewed, I don't remember if I replied, but most likely I did not, so...:

-Yes, next chapter is supposed to deal with the Pevensies in England (that will be very interesting to write, as my '50s European knowledge is almost non-existent);

-I hope I can ^^; ;

-They'll feel better soon enough =);

-Thank you- I thought a little back-story was needed in order to shape the characters into the roles they will play as the story unfolds- they are such great characters that every reader can hold a different (and truthful) vision of who they were, so I wanted to give insight into what I think drives the characters into being what they will be in this fanfic.


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